Verizon Mi-Fi

I reviewed the Mi-Fi using Verizon's 3G network earlier in the week. If you've been considering this nifty little device, take a look — I even look at how the device interacts with the iPhone. You won't want to miss it!

Journeying On

It's been a rough couple of weeks. It's a long story I'll save for another time, but I wanted to post something rather than completely disappear from my blog.

The basic result of the last few weeks occurrences is that I have had to rethink some things I have been doing. Sometimes it is time to move on. I don't like moving on from this or that thing that I have been doing for years, but sometimes it is the right thing to do. I had to make the decision to move on from a project I have been involved in for years this week.

I'm looking forward to focusing on new things… some of which I may be able to detail here soon.

The Five Most Influential Albums

I was thinking the other day about which (music) albums have been the most influential on me. Not which ones are most profound, but which ones have stood the test of time so that year after year they continue to established the baseline for my musical taste. Each of the following actually altered my musical taste to some degree. These are the ones that keep being played month after month and year after year. Though I lack musical performance ability, if I had the ability to compose music, I rather think it would sound like a mix of these.

5. The Screen Behind the Mirror (Enigma) — It's a bit “different,” but Enigma creates a sound that is grand in scale. The interweaving of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana into a rich texture of traditional and electronic sounds creates an unforgettable, intriguing and haunting sound on this album. I'm not really sure how to describe Engima if you haven't heard it. But imagine rock, alternative, gregorian chant and classical blended together to the point that the parts are no longer really separate and you have an idea. If you haven't heard them, you are missing out on something.

4. No Angel (Dido) — I remember first hearing Dido perform on TV not long after this, her first CD, came out. I didn't pick up the CD for several years after that, but “Here With Me” immediately stuck in my head. It sets the tone very well for the whole CD. This album, like Engima, creates what I can only think to call an immensely large sound stage. It envelopes the listener into something large, somewhat dark and out of the ordinary.

3. Sixpence None the Richer (Sixpence None the Richer) — the eponymous album was my entry point into the band and remains my favorite album from them (and this comes from a guy that owns every album the group has put out so far, along with most of their singles). Few albums that I've listened to feel so much like a cohesive whole as this one, yet each song stands on its own as well. While some of Sixpence's best work is contained in their earlier albums and “Divine Discontent” is nothing to sneeze at, their self-titled album's constant, catchy and mature sound sets it apart. Capturing the experience of the band as it struggled to survive, it is full of feeling and contains a deep combination of allusions that make it a “thinking” album.

2. The Book of Secrets (Loreena McKennitt) — The gem of this album, in my estimation, is “Dante's Prayer” — an absolutely beautiful interweaving of McKennitt's celtic sound with Dante's story and an Eastern Orthodox choir. I cannot help but here it now when I read the Divine Comedy. While that is the height, the rest of the album similarly is rich in texture and filled with emotive lyrics that invoke the objective correlative.

1. Fallen (Evanescence) — What I like about Evanescence is not far off from what impresses me about Engima: it is a genre bending band that integrates classical elements into something very distinctly modern. Evanescence's heavy use of a backing symphony orchestra and chorale creates perhaps the perfect example of the postmodern juxtaposition. The dark, brooding nature is a rich musical landscape that expresses what I have come to call the “tragedy of the ordinary fate” extremely well. The high point, in my estimation, is single unit of “Tourniquet” and “Imaginary” (though neither is my favorite song in isolation) — the two tracks blend together with a symphonic musical interlude in between which is really quite haunting and I wish had been developed into something longer.

Perhaps I'll do a series on further thoughts on each of these CD's individually over the summer. I've thought a lot about them over the last few years and have been trying to objectively identify what makes them so particularly memorable to me. I'm getting closer to formulating something — there's a theme the adept observer may be able to see in what I've listed above.

In any case, what are your five? (Remember: what is the most influential to you, not what is the most profound or impressive or whatever else.)

I Have Survived

Over the last 24 hours I've begun to decompress. Last night I finished my final final and polished up my last exegetical paper of the semester. After the crazily intense Jan-Term Hebrew Weak Verbs course jumping into the semester this spring was a challenge and the particular way this semester's schedule fell out only made things more difficult to hold together. Though I learned a lot, I have to say I have never been more thankful to have reached the point where I can say, “I am done.”

That's not to say I am done entirely, of course. I have three semesters left at Covenant. And I'm not in a particularly hurry to move on. I'm just happy to be able to focus my time on other things for a few months. I am about four to five months behind on many of my projects. Sheesh.

No One Would Think to Ask

Here's a fun little meme that I was tagged on via Facebook.

Answer these 30 Things No One Would Think To Ask. Then tag me so I can come and have a look. After that, tag friends who you'd like to answer these questions.

Feel free to answer below or otherwise comment on where you answered the questions.

1. Have you ever been searched by the cops?
No.

2. Do you close your eyes on roller coasters?
I don't think so. I've only been on one or two — I'm a fast learner when it comes to things like establishing I'm not a roller coaster guy.

3. When's the last time you've been sledding?
I really couldn't say.

4. Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?
I'm happy enough to have my cat lay on my bed. Other than that, I'm unmarried, so I'll say alone.

5. Do you believe in ghosts?
No, if you mean tortured souls unable to escape the earth. But, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

6. Do you consider yourself creative?
Yes, I believe so. I like creative pursuits such as poetry.

7. Do you think O.J. killed his wife?
Yes.

8. Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie?
To the extent hearing about celebrities is unavoidable, Jolie has always bugged me. But, honestly, I think I will decline to comment.

9. Can you honestly say you know ANYTHING about politics?
Yes. McCain would have been a better president than Obama. Huckabee would have been a better president than either of them. I'd be a better president than all three of 'em.

10. Do you know how to play poker?
Probably at some point I did. I forget how to play card games if I don't play them frequently.

11. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight?
No.

12. What's your favorite commercial?
Of recent commercials, “Clay.” Otherwise, I'm not sure, 1984 is hard to top.

13. Who was your first love?
A.G. She is still a friend (I saw her last week for the first time in ages, as a matter of fact), and one who might not want to pop up on a Google search in this context, so initials are all you are going to get.

14. If you're driving in the middle of the night, and no one is around you, do you run a red light?
No.

15. Do you have a secret that no one knows but you?
Yes, probably so.

16. Boston Red Sox or New York Yankees?
Yankees, just because of what the Soxs did to us in 2004.

17. Have you ever been Ice Skating?
No. Had I, I may not be here today!

18. How often do you remember your dreams?
I probably remember something about them most mornings, but usually only a tidbit or two.

19. What's the one thing on your mind?
Deadlines.

20. Do you always wear your seat belt?
Yes.

21. What talent do you wish you had?
The ability to play musical instruments.

22. Do you like Sushi?
I like my meat cooked, thank you very much.

23. What do you wear to bed?
A t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

24. Do you truly hate anyone?
No.

25. If you could sleep with one famous person, who would it be?
I wouldn't.

26. Do you know anyone in jail?
Not really.

27. What food do you find disgusting?
Tuna. Blue Cheese. Anything made of brains.

28. Have you ever made fun of your friends behind their back?
Probably at some point. I try not to.

29. Have you ever been punched in the face?
Not that I recall. Then again…

30. Do you believe in angels and demons?
Yes and I'd tie that in with number 5.

Love at First Sight

My good friend and misguided political pundit Jason used a song from Brandy in his Facebook status yesterday. It was a quip about the impossibility of falling in love overnight. I got a little carried away as part of my response, so I thought I'd use it as a blog post for your concern or amusement.

Objection 1. It seems that love at first sight, or at least the close proximation thereof, is not possible. For love is too deep a thing to occur so quickly.

Objection 2. It should be noted that if the thing were not impossible, past occurrences would at least suggest it unwise.

On the contrary, the thing seems quite possible and is retold throughout literature, for example, Dante's love of Beatrice and the many cases of love (often crossed with mistaken identity) in the works of Shakespeare. These cases resonate with humanity, and only that which is “the mirror up to nature,” as Hamlet says, resonate with the soul.

I answer that the objections confuse the thing's accidents with its substance. That love is complex and deep need not be tied to a particular time frame always, even if it is frequently. Neither should its most close resemblance to its ideal form be taken to imply that it cannot occur less ideally in its material realization.

And, we may add that what wisdom is with concern to this matter is difficult to discern. If it were Romeo's fate to fall in love with Juliet, was it unwise merely because it led to their mutual demise? Or was it ultimately wise since it was in accord with fate? Perhaps Romeo would have killed himself later out of depression when Juliet was betrothed to another had he not fallen in love overnight but rather more slowly. Would there have been a net gain in happiness then? Likely not, for maybe Juliet would have secretly remained an admirer of Romeo and hence would kill herself too. In any case, unrequited love would have unnecessarily been involved then, as both Romeo and Juliet would have mistaken the views of the other, heaping further sadness upon their souls before their untimely deaths. But having already married someone else, Juliet would now lead to two broken hearts rather than one.

Moreover, though the ideal form may take time to develop, the ideal form is not actually achieved even over long periods of time for, as it is written, a curse exists upon love (Gen. 3.16). Therefore, if one only considers romantic love by its ideal form, then it does not exist in the present human condition. But even the objector does not accept this premise, which is indeed flawed.

Reply to Objection 1. As we have seen, this is based upon a confusion of form with its material realization.

Reply to Objection 2. Likewise it has been shown that the wisdom of the occurence is none too easily judged. To assume the accident of unwise decision is the essence of love at first sight is a matter of confusion. It may be proverbially true, but should be taken as something to which possible exceptions can occur.

Meditation

HE IS RISEN!

I've been meaning to post more regularly on my blog, but the last few weeks have been — to put it mildly — rough. Both with my schedule at seminary as I've been juggling five group projects and some other matters I can't hash out in full just now, it's been a long, hard haul.

In any case, I meant to post a link yesterday to my annual Good Friday meditation. Resuming a tradition of past years, I was blessed with the opportunity to deliver it as part of the Good Friday service at St. Paul's. The link goes to an adaptation of that meditation into essay form.

But, that was yesterday. The grave has not only been filled, but also emptied. It is Easter morning. “O Death, where is thy sting?” Christ the Lord is RISEN today. Alleluia! Amen!

Happy Easter, my friends!

LIVE from Shelbyville

Well, I do not usually blog when out of town, but for grins here I am. I am in rural Indiana, south of Indianapolis for my grandpa's 89th birthday. It was a tough schedule given what I need to accomplish this week while on “break,” but it was nice to share the day with him (sadly, my last living grandparent).

Tomorrow I head home and back to the grind. Hope all are doing well.

(This message courtesy of the wonders of AT&T 2.5G EDGE service on my iPhone in the middle of farmland… Ironically with a better signal than I get at my house since AT&T messed up my coverage.)

O Bitter Muse, Oft-Present Visitant

It has been awhile since I posted any of my poetry. This poem started to form in my mind a few weeks ago. Like Cassandra of the Greek tragic lore, the gift and curse of the poet (even a bad one) is being all too aware and yet unable to change things. Poetry is a form of catharsis; I think anyone who writes poetry reaches a point of nearly bursting in which the pressure can be relieved through only the writing of verse. Yet, my goal is never to release a poem for only that reason. I hope that this poem captures something more.

O bitter muse, oft-present visitant,
Thy inspiration bids for solace, “Write!”
Alas, all peace you assault and fast destroy.
Old dreaded guide, your fetid breath does creep,
Oppressive reminder of soft and tender times,
Of memories now past, the fading light.
Look not on me cruelly, oh Tragedy.
I called thy sister, Love, yet you arose,
O bitter muse, no more! But let me pour
Between your fingers fast, as water drops
A drop into the seas of time, fading,
To escape your hell filled ways less scathed.
You, like a plague, unhindered, ‘cross the land,
I sue, but you war ‘gainst me ceaselessly.
And so I practice my mysterious craft,
Assuming now the poet's gift and curse,
A sponge, I sop thy flood as best I can,
By grace of God, may I someday be rung,
And rest upon His hand, again be dry,
Before I drown in the e’er rising tide.

Incidentally, as it flowed, I found I had blank verse (unrhymed but metered). I do not write in blank verse typically, but it seemed to fit the mood of the poem.

Requiem to My Grandpa

The Death of Ivan Ilych is especially touching for those who have witnessed the prolonged suffering and death of a family member. Ilych increasingly becomes aware of his own mortality and how it is going to rob him of his “perfect” life.

It reminds me a lot of my grandfather. My grandfather was always a fixer of things and just a great person to be around. Few people that knew him did not love to be around him, and often people who had just met him would willingly spend long periods of time talking to him. He savored talking to people and would equally enjoy talking and spending time with both family and strangers who would lend an ear and time. He had a fascination with a great many things and lived what one could consider a really picturesque life, heading toward his eighties as a happy person enjoying his time in retirement.

It was a fire just about four years prior to his death that destroyed his picturesque existence. He became one that often had angry outbursts – like Ivan Ilych – and things seemed to fall apart around him. While my grandmother did not reciprocate with anger, the fire brought to the surface the beginnings of dementia that had not been apparent previously – thus, like Ilych, my grandfather was not only suffering because of his own problems, but also because of my grandmother’s problems.

The thing we did not know at the time was that the anger was actually being brought out as a side effect of the rare cancer that was developing inside of him. Like Ilych, symptoms – such as weakness and tiredness — started to become more apparent, and different doctors tried different solutions with different diagnoses for a good deal of time, until the real villain became apparent. Despite being told he had no hope, my grandfather refused to listen and continue to fight – just hoping to beat the unbeatable enemy within.

The worst symptoms came out about a year before his death and as they slowly ripped away parts of him, leaving less and less of the person we knew and loved and more of the angry person caused by the side effects of the disease to the brain, it reached the point where we – like Ilych’s family – desired less and less to be around my grandfather lest there be another violent outburst. It was a most cruel end to a most wonderful person.

In one of his more lucid moments, however, my grandfather related something very hopeful to my mother. He said his favorite season was always the fall, because fall represented a beginning. Consider this for a moment. After the spring, summer and bright early autumn colors of life, we reach what – at first – appears to be the beginning of the end. Yet it is only through the ending of life as we know it that we can really begin. Without the ending that is autumn, there can be no springtime of resurrection. As my grandfather himself worked through the fact that he was in the fall of his life, he eventually gained a new hope and peace recognizing he was heading forward to the springtime.

It is not being dead that needs to be feared, but the process of dying. Hope springs again, for we know the promise of the Father through the work of his son. Once we can get beyond the shedding of our leaves in a final burst of color, we make way for the innocence and wonder of spring.